


What It Means

by Areiton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Confessions, Dean has feelings, Episode: s12e14 The Raid, M/M, Phone Calls, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10100798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: All the phone calls, all the texts, all the check-ins. Every time he reached out and the angel caught him. It’s--Knowledge slips into place, like a puzzle piece notched in and he laughs, a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little late, but here it is. What Dean did immediately after finding out about Mary.

He gets a mile down the road before he pulls off and sits there. Shaking. 

It feels like everything's falling apart. He hasn't felt this lost since--. 

No. He pushes the thought away. Because of all the things he can deal with, Castiel’s betrayal all those years ago is not one. Hasn't ever been. 

He's dialing before he even processes it, his hand shaking a little as he leans his forehead against the steering wheel and listens to the ringing. 

“Dean?” 

He sounds just the same as he always does. Rough and solid, slightly bewildered but pleased, and it settles his shaking even as it drags a choked noise from him. 

“Dean,” he says, alarmed now and when did this even happen? When did an angel saying his name break him and put him back together. 

“‘m ok,” he gasps and Castiel makes a low, disgruntled noise. 

“I don't believe that are all.” He says but he waits. Patient as Dean forces himself to calm. To breath until the urge to punch something recedes and the need to scream doesn't tuck up to his teeth, itching to escape when he opened his mouth. 

Then, gentle and patient,  “What happened?”

Dean spills it all in an angry rush, the lies and Mary's distance and the fucking British men of letters and how much it fucking  _ hurts.  _

“This always happens--” he cuts himself off too late. That's out there, hanging in the thick silence between them. 

“She is trying to protect you,” Castiel says and Dean scoffs. He pitches his voice a little higher, until Dean goes silent. “I have tried that, and it doesn't work. Not by lying. It only delays and complicates the way you will be hurt. She...she is trying, Dean. Her heart is in the right place.”

“She almost got you killed!” Dean yells, suddenly. All of the fear and fury washing up and choking him and 

_ I love you  _

Christ. 

“I am still here,” he promises, gravel gritty and solid as a mountain. 

“Almost weren't.” 

“We have died before, Dean,” Cas says gently and Dean makes a choked noise in his throat, cutting that off before he can continue. 

They're silent and then, before he can stop it, “Did you mean it? What you said in the barn.” 

One of the best things about Cas is that he doesn't dissemble. He doesn't pretend that question is anything but what it is. 

“Yes.” 

His breath leaves him in a rush and he makes a broken noise, something that might have been Cas’s name, if he weren't so shattered. 

And Cas is still and silent on the other end of the phone and Dean let's out a shaky breath. 

“I don't know how to do this, man.” 

“Neither do I,” Cas says quietly. “But we'll figure it out together.” 

And Dean kinda laughs, a watery thing and nods. “I miss you.” He confesses, breathing it out with his eyes closed and his heart pounding. 

There is a sharp inhale and Cas, his steady and unshakable angel, is shaking when he says, “ _ Dean.” _

This is where they hesitate, everything trembling on a knife point. Where Cas has taken them and he’ll wait. 

He will always wait, has tried before to push Dean where he thinks he should go and failed. Now he will only offer. And wait. 

“Want you to come home,” Dean murmurs and Cas moans, softly, “Cas, come home. Come back to me.” 

“Dean,” he says. 

“I need you here,” Dean says, and it’s like a revelation. He needs Cas. 

All the phone calls, all the texts, all the check-ins. Every time he reached out and the angel caught him. It’s--

Knowledge slips into place, like a puzzle piece notched in and he laughs, a little. 

“God, Cas, I need  _ you.”  _

_ I love you.  _

What would it be like, to hear that when they weren’t dying? 

And why does it feel like he’s heard it every time Cas says his name?

“Dean,” he murmurs, and Dean’s eyes flutter closed again. “I need you too.” 

There is very little to say after that. But they stay like that. Dean on the side of the road and Cas god only knows where, clinging to this fragile new thing.

It doesn't fix anything. Not really. But it’s what he needs. Cas is what he needs. 


End file.
